My Lancelot
by Quaxo
Summary: Jordan and Perry go ice skating. Hijinks ensue.


****

He slid an arm around Jordan's waist as they entered the skating arena. She was in a full fledged pout over the idea of skating, but she owed him after the three hour interrogation her mother had put him through over the dinner table. It would have been easier if he'd just handed over his bank statements as soon as he walked in the door. Not to mention the fact that he'd been severely under dressed for the occasion. Jordan didn't mention 'family dinner' at the Sullivan house meant shirt, tie and khakis; not clean t-shirt and nicest jeans.

"If you want to get anything after this soppy farce of a date you will extract your hand immediately," Jordan snarled. He quickly removed it, trying to look cool about it, and sighed.

"Just relax, princess. We're on the other side of town, no one is going to know that under your frozen exterior is a living –" He let out an unmanly yelp as Jordan stomped the arch of his foot with her stiletto boot.

"If you were smart you would have shut up five minutes ago," Jordan hissed. Fortunately, her wrath was soon directed at someone else. "And why the hell isn't this line moving?"

He put weight on his abused foot; he didn't think she broke anything, but it was probably going to leave a bruise. She obviously wanted to have a dreadful time. If she thought she was going to ruin his night, she was wrong.

As if in response to Jordan's evil look, the line for skate rentals moved quickly, and they were soon at the counter.

"Size eleven," he said to the pimple-faced teenager behind the screen. When Jordan didn't say anything he sighed. Jordan glared at him, and crossed her arms over her chest. Why did she have to make everything so difficult? Well he wasn't going to let her win.

Before she could stomp his foot again, he scooped her up in his arms, and threw her feet up on the counter.

"Sorry, the little lady here is just a little bit embarrassed about how big her _humongous_ feet are, so if you could just read the number off the sole of the shoe there and keep it to yourself that'd be great..." Jordan's glare had gotten death ray hot. Fortunately, the clerk seemed to want to get them and the imminent explosion as far away from him as possible; he practically threw the skates at them.

"See, pumpkin, now that wasn't so terrible, was it?"

"Out of my face, or I'll ensure that you'll never be able to father children."

He found some bench space after having to rent three lockers before he found one that Jordan deemed clean enough to put her Hermes purse in. He waited until her back was turned to throw his dirty sneakers on top of her bag and locked the door.

He laces up his skates quickly from memory, having spent every winter weekend at the local ice rink once he was old enough to walk to the bus stop alone. Standing it takes him a moment to remember how to balance on the blades before he jumps the wall and hits the ice.

His muscles warm and by the time he's halfway around the rink he's got his rhythm back and nimbly moving amongst the kids. A few more laps and he can probably start pulling out some of the fancy stuff –

He frowns when spots Jordan still sitting on the bench, scowling at him, and he skates in towards her.

"The ice isn't getting any warmer, Jordy. Come on out…"

Jordan glares at him.

"What are you, scared?"

That gets a reaction out of her, just like he thought it would, and she jumps up to her feet – only to stumble back down onto the bench like a newborn deer.

"…I can't skate."

He frowns, leaning in further over the wall, because he cannot possibly have heard what he just heard. Surely, everyone knows how to –

"I can't skate, you moron!"

He's presented with a golden moment to make fun of her. Really, he should take advantage of it, because god knows Jordan would if their positions were reversed.

He jumps back over the wall and marches towards her, and offers his hands.

"C'mon."

He pulls her up and gets her to the ice without incident, enjoying the feeling of her curling against him for support.

"Okay, push onto the toes of your right foot. Now push on to your left foot. Right foot, left foot, right foot… can ya loosen up your talons on my arm a little, I'm loosing feeling in my fingers." Jordan glared at him again, but this one was for show, and her grip on his arm slackened slightly.

"C'mon stand up straight…" He mumbled, using it as an excuse to pull her closer and slip his arm around her waist. He fought down a grin when felt her move an arm around his waist in return. "That's it."

Just as Jordan seemed to be getting into the date some snot-nosed punk came speeding by, clipping Jordan in the shoulder, and nearly knocking her to the ground.

"Watch where you're skating, asshole!" Jordan screamed, trying to pursue the brat, but ended up just flailing about. He managed to catch her before she fell on her face, thank God, otherwise he'd never have heard the end of it. _This nose is brand new god dammit!_

"We've got to crawl before we can kill, Jorderoo…"

After another lap Jordan is starting to get her legs underneath her. She still hovers close to him, her arm gripped around his waist, allowing his arm to rest on her shoulder as they move forward slowly. This is, he supposes, what normal couples do with their day, and it's kinda nice…

There's no time to react as the same snot nosed punk comes screaming around the bend, and this time he's not satisfied with a mere shoulder check, this time bodily slamming into Jordan and knocking her onto her face.

The kid skates backwards and gives him the finger.

Oh, that kid is _dead_…

He hoists a squirming Jordan up off the ice and back onto her feet.

"Jordan, get off to the side, I'm going to handle this."

Snarling, he crouches and pushes off, moving swiftly to avoid the other people on the skating rink. The little asshole is laughing with his friends, skating slowly now, completely unaware ---

"Ow man, what the hell," The kid yelps as he plows him into the wall.

"Watch where you're going!"

"Okay! Okay!"

He pushes off, letting up on the kid, certain that now his point has gotten across he can get back to his date –

Jordan is gracing him with one of her rare smiles as he skates back towards her--

"Maybe you should take your slow ass bitch and go home!"

Oh. _**Hell**_. No.

The world goes white around the edges and pivots quickly and races towards the kid just like he charged the defense line at the state game his senior year, and they both go flying over the wall – after that he can't remember.

***///***

Sitting out on the curb in his stocking feet, he sighs. This date had started out so promising, only for some little prick to ruin it. The rink had banned him for life for "roughhousing with a minor", but Perry was of the opinion that if you were old enough to throw insults, you were old enough to deal with the consequences. Jordan was going to be embarrassed that he'd created a public spectacle --

He starts when he feels something drop down his head, and stares up at Jordan who gives him his other sneaker.

"Sorry about that," He says, starting to lace up his sneaker.

"Please, watching you pound that teenager into the ice was the best part of the whole night." She smirks, and in an unexpected gesture of affection places a kiss on his forehead. "Now get your shoes on, and I'll let you have some of that honor you defended, Lancelot."

Well, he's not going to argue with that.

\\\\


End file.
